Operation: Icebreakers
by gleekymcgrey
Summary: Trapped in their humble abode during a raging storm, The Charmings resort to playing a classic question and answer card game. Stories are shared, and emotions unfold. How far can they go? (Series of one-shots. Feel free to submit questions)
1. Favorite Childhood Moment

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Hi guys! :) This is my first OUAT fanfic, and I hope you'll like it.

This is going to be a multi-chapter fanfic, based on what you want to read.

So please, send in your suggestions! PM or Review, or Tweet: CaminnaFerolin. Anything will work.

Have a nice day in the name of Charmings Family feels!

:)

* * *

_**I Wasn't there the moment you first learned to breathe**_  
_**But I'm on my way**_  
_**On my way**_  
_**I wasn't there the moment you got off your knees**_  
_**But I'm on my way**_  
_**On my way**_

_**On my Way, Boyce Avenue**_

Fifteen minutes till dinner cooks—enough time for a run down the grocery store. Emma haven't the slightest idea why she had been craving deep-fried Twinkies. She swore to herself never to eat that junk since high school, when all she ate for breaks were boxes of Twinkies. But tonight, amidst the strong aroma of grilling steak and brewing soup, she craved it so bad, her mouth began to water.

Drumming her fingers on the kitchen counter while she watched her parents do the work, she thought of ways on how to escape her sometimes-okay, all of the time-protective folks.. There was no way in this land or the next, would they ever let _sweet little Emma_ to put herself in the middle of a raging storm. _Especially not for a Twinkie_. But why did she even have to ask for permission? _Because they were her parents, right_. But she was twenty eight years old, and capable of taking care of herself, right? _Right!_ "Listen, I'm going out for a while…"

Snow looked up, confused. David stopped the slow stirring motion of the ladle in his pot.

"Five minutes, tops. I have something..."

"But it's crazy outside." Henry chimed in, peeking from his K-zone magazine.

"Henry's right, Emma. Can't it wait until the storm's over?" Snow asked, watching as Emma went for her coat. No, there's no way that would shield her from the weather outside. When Emma only shrugged, she put down her ladle and gave her daughter a look. _Her look_. No non-sense, bad-ass Snow White look. "Emma?"

Emma sometimes forgot that she wasn't Mary Margaret anymore. Or that, she was just half of the shy, timid woman she once knew.

"I'll be alright," She stubbornly shot back, putting an earmuff over her head.

But somewhere between reaching for her coat and dodging Snow's colder than the weather glare, the lights went out. For a moment, there was only silence before Emma put a sound to the pitch dark void. "Oh, crap." She mumbled under her breath. _Definitely no Twinkie tonight_. She needed to get to the emergency cupboard where she hoped Snow stashed the flashlights, and trusted her internal memory of the apartment to navigate.

One step. _All good, Emma. All good._

Another step…_ow!_ "Oh, crap!" She cried out in pain as she stubbed a toe on the coffee table. She felt the sensation linger and kept the curse words to herself as it crawled to her every being. "Crap!"

A glaring light from the kitchen shone on her, and there they all stood—Her parents, and Henry—holding a chuckle to themselves. "Oh, Emma. You should have waited a bit."—David said, and started setting candles on the countertop.

Henry moved to the living room, and put two candle holders on the doomed coffee table. "I've stubbed my toe before. I thought I was going to die."—Henry teased. But who could ever resist that face? Definitely not Emma.

Emma ran her fingers through Henry's hair, her face still etched with pain. "Well, since I can't possibly leave now, why don't you help me with the plates?"

It was probably the best beef steak and seafood soup she had tasted her whole life. _Definitely better than Twinkie._ Disney couldn't have guessed Snow White's mad cooking skills, and Prince Charming's wicked culinary abilities. Over the course of dinner, Snow handed over extra layers of thick clothing to keep them warm; it was getting way, way colder than the usual winter.

Fifteen minutes later, they were sprawled in a small circle in the living room, surrounding what little warmth some six candles could offer.

"Who wants hot chocolate?" Snow offered, rubbing her hands together while snuggled close to her husband.

Emma and Henry raised their hands in unison, just as David kissed her wife's cheek as a go for the warm drink.

"We are seriously trapped!" Emma grunted. "I wonder how big of a damage the storm did on the power lines."

"Come on, mom." Henry looked over her shoulder, "This could be fun! We can call it Operation," he paused, at a loss of a better name for this adventure. Then just like the cliché light bulb effect, he beamed, "Operation: Icebreakers!"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Ice breakers? Because of the storm, that's it?"

Henry resigned, "No, mom. Icebreakers is a card game. You pull out a card from the deck of cards, and you answer the question it asks."

Emma hesitated but didn't let it show. She exchanged glances with her father, who understood what she had in mind. With Henry's advanced mind, it would be no wonder if he caught the emotion in Emma's eyes.

_What if the question's too hard?_

_What if it hits too close to home?_

_What if I hurt them with my answers?_

_What if I get hurt? What if Henry gets hurt?_

"We have nothing else to fuss about, you know?" Henry broke the growing ice, and it was starting to get colder than the angry storm.

Again, Emma couldn't say no to that smile. "Alright, kid. Let's do this Operation: Icebreakers thing."

Henry stormed into his grandfolks' bed where he had placed his backpack. He had all kinds of things in there—the story book, school things, a couple of cheap magic toys, and now, an icebreaker deck.

Snow returned with a tray of fresh hot chocolate mugs. "What are we doing?" She asked, handing over the treat to her daughter, then to her husband. Henry came back to their fort, with a smile so wide, it reached his ear. Her eyes trailed to the small box on the boy's hand. "Oh, is that what I think it is?"

Henry put on a full-on puppy look, "Sorry. Nobody really paid much attention to it in the classroom."

"That's school property?" Emma mocked, snatching the box so Henry can get a hold of his mug.

Emma shuffled the small cards in her hands and placed it on their center.

"I'll go first." she volunteered, eyeing both her parents nervously._ This is just a game, Emma. Just a game_.

She picked a card from the middle of the deck, and read the words out loud. "If you could be any non-living thing, what would you be?" _Easy. Impersonal. Perfect._ "A gun," Emma immediately answered. She earned concerned and confused looks from the rest, so she went for elaboration. "Because a gun is perfectly able of taking care of itself. So long as it has bullets, though."

"I'd be an apple." Snow said.

The rest of them let out a small chuckle. "I'd be an apple so I can tell the evil apples to stop putting people in sleeping curses." If it hadn't been for the lightness in Snow's voice and the laugh that followed her answer, they would've thought differently.

"I'll be a Transformer." Henry answered, "Because robots are _so_ cool!"

"I want to be a clock." David followed, unable to contain what he had to say. "Because I want to be able to turn back time and be right here, whenever I need it." _And to go back to when Emma was still their baby girl_, but for some reason, he left that out. "That was easy enough. Who wants to go next?"

Snow lifted a finger, "I'll go."

Butterflies flew into her stomach as her mother read the question with her eyes.

_What could it be, what could it be, what could it be._

"What is your favourite childhood moment?" Snow huffed out. Emma's heart dropped to the ground.

_ Did it really have to be that?_ But her parents didn't seem to notice her change of aura.

"Oh, easy. Seventh birthday." She began. Emma couldn't help but hang on to every word her mother said. As much as she couldn't imagine herself in a royal situation, she wanted to know what it meant to be a princess. And her mother, of all people, could give her that. "It was my first ball. My mother dressed me quite nicely—a blue and red, dainty ball gown with pearls sewn _everywhere_—and my father, the King, taught me how to dance." Snow's breath caught at the memory. To be reminded of the life she had felt anything but comforting. It also reminded her of the life she lost. But she didn't let the hesitation show; not when Emma's attention was on her. "…anyway, it was my favourite moment because of those little things. I was very nervous. It was my first dance, and with a handsome Prince from another kingdom."

David raised his eyebrows at that. "I might have been a shepherd, but I doubt he was more handsome than me."

Snow hit his arm playfully. "Well, he certainly wasn't _charming_. He told me I had chubby cheeks, and didn't want me for a wife." She chuckled at that, "He was seven, too. I guess people from our land just expected the royalties to marry other royalties their age. At least, that's what he thought."

Emma shook her head let out a laugh. _Blue and red dress? Disney isn't entirely wrong about Snow White, then_. She expected Snow to say more, but her turn had ended.

David cleared his throat, "Well, I grew up in farm. My favourite moment would be the day when my mother took me to a friend's farm to ride the horses. Unlike your mother," he directed his gaze to Emma, "Her castle had hundreds or probably thousands of horses you could ever count. But we didn't have a lot then. I as twelve when I first learned how to ride, and a little afterwards, the man gave the horse to my family to pay a debt. I couldn't have been happier."

"Just as you taught me how to ride, Gramps!" Henry chimed in, "That would be my favourite. Actually, that places second from finding my mom."

Emma's heart melted. At the same time, guilt washed over her. The fact that it was her son that looked for her and found her still made her think of herself as the worst mother ever. But Henry wasn't giving her any of that. He was just as happy as she was that he found his mom.

She didn't realize it was her turn until her parent's gaze stung her.

The realization had already hit them, and they were hoping she'd open herself up to them. Oh for crying out loud, Emma wanted nothing more than to open herself to her parents. But every time she tried, she ran out of ways on how to do it.

_Maybe answer the question, Emma._

_Yeah, Emma. Start with the question_—her irrational side told her. No, screamed at her.

But after a moment's silence, they were beginning to lose hope. As much as they wanted to know more of their daughter's life, they didn't want to push her. Snow said, "It's alright, we'll just…"

"No." Emma replied sternly. "I didn't get to share mine," her lips broke into a small smile, and the butterflies were on full force.

"When I was five years old, I lived with this family—the Rogers. They lived off of a small income in a small house, and that was why they had to give me up. They just didn't have enough for another mouth to feed," Emma swallowed, not sure if she could take her parents holding on to every word that ever left her lips. "I was with them on the Christmas season, and that was the best and the last Christmas I spent with a family. They gave me this small doll that I came to like at the store, but it cost way more than they could afford; and it wasn't even that costly." Emma smiled. She wondered what had happened to the doll. Oh, right. Some bully twice her age took it from her. _What was her name? Oh...Tabitha, was it?_ "So this doll, they bought it and gave it to me for Christmas."

Snow's chest tightened. Her daughter shouldn't have been one to want for anything. Emma deserved everything in the world, and she could have had the chance at a great life. She squeezed David's hand, and he returned a reassuring caress.

"Needless to say, I was very happy. Because for the first time in a long time, I felt loved."

Snow didn't help the pained gasp that escaped her mouth. "You are most certainly loved now, Emma."

Emma smiled as warmth crept to her chest. Her mother was right, and she believed her. Because for the first time in her whole life, she had never felt so loved.

So wanted.

Cared for. And this time, her family was here to stay.

Emma smiled, "I know."


	2. First Kiss

**Author's Notes**

I know it took me a long time to upload another chapter to this. Apologies! But school's messing with my fangirling, so.

Okay, so this chapter is more on Daddy Charming and Emma. I just think we don't get enough of that on the show. And also, because I have my own daddy issues to inspire me. I hope you like it!

_First Kiss was requested by __**FaerieTales4ever**_

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

The blush that crept on her mother's cheeks, and the coy smile that formed in her lips were unmistakable. Snow set the card to the floor, and reached for the deck, "We might want to skip that one."

"Hey!" the three of them—herself, David and Henry—protested in unison, "That's not fair." Emma added, "Not fair at all. Come on, what was in there?"

Snow hesitated, "Well I don't think it'd be appropriate, considering we have a kid here." She said, pointing at the direction of Henry.

With that, Emma and David backed down, and shoved the deck for Snow to pick. It was Henry's turn to object. "Grams! Come on, it can't be that bad. Besides, I think my friends and I have gone through all the questions already." He reasoned, "And I am almost twelve. I'm barely a kid."

With Emma's stubbornness and Henry's father free-spirit combined, it was no wonder where he had learned to be so insistent. "Well, if you insist. Why don't we get on with that, huh?" Emma suggested, and looked her mother's way.

"Well," with an approving smile from David, Snow cleared her throat, "_Spill the details of your first kiss_—who wants to go first?"

The storm had passed, but there were power lines to be checked on. Good thing the cell towers weren't damaged by the crazy winds, and the simultaneous ringing of both Emma and David's phones were evidence at that. Father and daughter fished their cells from their pockets, and exchanged glances.

"What's wrong, mom?" Henry asked.

"I'm sorry but I think we'll have to hold that one." Emma mumbled from under her breath as she helped herself into standing. "It's Leroy. He needs us to look at the electric posts."

David placed a small kiss on his wife's cheek and a pat on the back on his grandson. "We all need our power supply back, so Emma and I better start fixing what we can fix. Sheriff Duties." He went to the coat rack, and helped Emma to her thick coat before slipping into his own.

"Be safe, you two." Snow called out in the dim light of the candles. "We'll try other games while you're gone."

* * *

"Well? How bad is it?" David asked, looking up to the town electrician. Apparently, Storybrooke didn't have enough hands to fix these kinds of emergency. But then again, this town didn't need any fixing when it was frozen; not until Emma made time start again.

"We might need some new cable wires for this post, boss." The man descended on his ladder, "Don't need to fix it tonight, right? This can be done tomorrow?" he crossed his arms, eyeing the sheriff and the deputy carefully.

"We'd be freezing in our beds tonight, pal." Leroy protested.

"No," Emma interrupted, "It'd be best if we work early tomorrow, Leroy. We don't exactly have the equipment to work through the darkness. Our flashlight is no use."

David nodded in agreement, "You're right, Emma."

"Oh goody." The electrician beamed, "Well then I should be heading out."

Leroy left to his rusty wagon with a grunt under his breath. David could only wish him well as he and Emma headed to their ride. The suburbs at this time and without traces of technology buzzing in the air felt nice. To David, it almost felt like home. Peace and quiet was something this land lacked; the farm where he grew up offered nothing more than a bit of peace and quiet.

"When there's no TV buzzing and lights on the street, Storybrooke feels a hell lot like a ghost town." Emma broke the silence, flashing her light to make their way.

"Actually, this feels a lot like home." David began, striding close. When Emma looked his way, he cleared his throat. "We didn't exactly have TVs and light posts back in the Enchanted Forest, you know."

Emma chuckled, looking ahead to her yellow bug at a distance. That's when the skies broke, and the rain started to pour…again. "Oh what the?"

Without so much as a doubt, David took off his coat and put it over Emma's head. Needless to say, Emma was taken aback by the gesture. Not that she didn't like it, though. Oh how good it felt to have someone watch over her. The wind grew stronger, and all off the sudden, they found themselves going against the breeze. Mere seconds passed, and the shuffling of debris filled the air, and soon there were trees swaying about, in danger of being uprooted from the soil.

"Forget it, we're not driving home in this weather!" Emma exclaimed, shouting through the sound of heavy rain hitting the pavement, and went for the nearest house to their proximity for as quick as her soaking wet garments could take her.

David ran along, and found temporary shelter in a two-story, classic American house's terrace.

"Mary Margaret will freak when she realizes we're out here in the middle of a freaking storm." Emma grunted, wrapping wet clothes around herself tighter.

"Do you think someone's home?" David turned his heels to the direction of the door, flashing a light on the glass, and took hold of the knob. Unlocked. Even for a small town like this one, nobody ever seemed to care for thieves, so it was beyond unusual to have the doors open for any outsider to come in.

"Look," Emma called her father's attention, and pointed at a 'FOR SALE' tarpaulin hanging on the wall. "It's on the market."

It was freezing. They were soaking wet. "Well, it's not trespassing. We're just taking shelter." He said, and opened the door for Emma. "A house like this must have some fireplace around."

* * *

"Uh-oh" Henry sighed, looking out the window. "I think mom and Gramps walked into Storm part II."

Snow's brows furrowed, joining Henry. "I hope they at least decided not to drive home." She mumbled, "There's rubble everywhere."

Henry backed away from the glass window, and squatted on the floor of the living room, where all the board games he and his grandma managed to find around the house lay in stacks. "Looks like we'll hold on to our game a little longer." He looked up, watched as Snow took her place beside him.

"Looks like we have enough time for mac & cheese. What do you say?"

Henry beamed, brown hair bouncing on his head as he nodded.

* * *

Emma started the fire after changing into a pair of over-sized t-shirt and pajamas, and crawled close enough to feel the heat warm her, with enough distance to keep herself from getting burned. The house had a few necessities in some built-in cabinets—candles, some almost expired potato chips, dry clothes in boxes, and charcoal for the hearth, but not a single furniture. From where she squatted, she could hear shuffling from the other room—who knows what Mr. Charmer is up to.

David came back to the living room after changing into a pair of clean shirt and sweat pants, and a few thick blankets hanging on his arm. "Hey," Emma snapped to the direction of his voice, green eyes glinting against the warm fire. "I found some of these from a box in the garage."

"Thanks, David." She reached out to the fabric, but it was David's initiative to put it over Emma's shoulder. She didn't miss the look on her father's eyes at the sound of his name, but her heart warmed at these little things. Never in her wildest dreams had she dreamt of having a father after long years of searching and hoping, and failing. But she had one now, not to mention that her daddy was Prince Charming, brave and true and nothing like the prince Disney cut him out to be.

Emma realized this could be the first time she was alone with him. Well, except for the long, tedious hours at the station, that is. But even then, they were separated from the glass window to the Sheriff office. She had spent enough time with her mother even before curse broke when she was just Mary Margaret, the smitten fourth-grade teacher. Then they fell through a portal and spent more time as mother and daughter in the Enchanted Forest.

"I hope the storm's not going to last long." Emma grunted, holding her knees to her chin. David squatted beside Emma, close enough that he could hear her chilly breaths, and the steady rise and fall of her back as she breathed. He loved these little moments. These were the moments he should have had the privilege to do had he been there to watch his little girl grow. He dreamed of watching her sleep long before she was born, imagined himself watching over her crib as she cooed incessant mumbles. He didn't even get to do that.

"Well, we can always go back to the game. What was the question?" David pondered, "Oh, first kiss. Why don't you go first?"

"Oh hell no!" Emma protested, "That is not a normal thing for fathers and daughters to talk about. Let's think of another question."

"I'm not a normal father, we both know that."

"Not a chance." Emma said, her voice firm and unwavering.

David sighed, "Alright, whatever you say."

After a while of sitting quietly through the storm and staring blankly into the fire, David croaked. "My first kiss was your mother."

Emma jumped at the sudden sound, and recovered after a short while of taking in the words said. Oh, the game. _First Kiss_. "Didn't you guys meet in your mid-20's?"

"Well, yeah." David nodded, "Hmm, I lived in the farm, and I didn't show much interest to women. Your grandmother was beginning to worry I'd never marry."

"Okay," Emma resigned, scooting closer to the fire and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders tighter. "So what were the circumstances of you finding Princess Snow White?"

David's eyes narrowed. "That part's in the book, you know?"

"I know. But stories are always lacking or exaggerated. Besides, we'll probably going to be stuck here for a while." Emma reasoned, looking away. Truth is, she wanted to share this with her _daddy_. The longing dated back to some fourth grade recitation from an insensitive prick of a teacher. Okay, so she was hurt and had to sit through an hour of listening to her classmates talk about how their parents met.

"Good point." David nodded, and cleared his throat before he began. "So, she wasn't technically a princess when I first met her. She was more of an…outlaw." He smiled at the memory, and Emma's heart warmed. Only her mother could paint this smile on his face, she knew that for sure. "An outlaw who managed to steal my mother's ring," he trailed off, putting a hand to his chest. "…and my heart."

Emma smiled, and a sincere one at that. This was the love legends are made of. The greatest love story of all time. Sometimes—_hell at that, most of the time_—true love isn't found.

It's built.

It's fought for.

David went on and on about the details of their love story. It all started with an ogre encounter, but eventually it led to the exchange of vows, then the celebration for the life growing inside Snow White—_that's me_. Emma wished she had been quick to hide the tears forming in her eyes. This much love sure is overwhelming.

Emma fought the urge to sleep; she had no intention of spending a whole night here. Without so much as a make-shift bed, she'd definitely wake up to a sore back.

David finally had his paternal instincts kicking in as he put an arm around Emma's shoulder, sensing his daughter's fatigue. "Why don't you take some rest, kid." The storm wasn't calming, and they were bound to spend the night in this house. Emma scrunched her nose at the nickname, but suddenly she was too tired to argue.

Her body went limp against her father's touch, and her head crashed on his lap. "…just for a while, kay. Wake me up when the rain's not so crazy anymore."

"Alright." He replied, and shifted so Emma was at least a little bit more comfortable. He waited until he was sure Emma was really sleeping before he risked tucking a rogue strand of blonde hair from her face. His finger grazed her skin and…dear Lord, was she burning up. "Emma, you're burning up." He repeated his thoughts, and placed his palm on her forehead. _Oh no_.


End file.
